Cigarette holder
by Marenke
Summary: At the Yule Ball, every year, Draco sees Astoria sitting at her table, sipping into her age-appropriate beverage, seemingly bored out of her mind.


**Inktober prompt day 17: ornament.**

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At the Yule Ball, every year, Draco sees Astoria sitting at her table, sipping into her age-appropriate beverage, seemingly bored out of her mind. At first, Draco couldn't understand why she didn't join his ragtag band of other children, running around pretending to be adults, trying to have fun to kill the mind numbingly boredom of these parties. Even her sister, Daphne, who was an ice cold creature, joined him, and yet there she sat, quiet and demure, more of an ornament at the table than a person.

After the war, when no one felt like commemorating Yule but still going because it was better than sit at home and stare at the fire, he understood her point of view. No point in doing anything, if everything would repeat itself.

He was still curious about her, though; she was two years younger than him, but stayed to herself, the lone Ravenclaw who sat everyday on the Slytherin table, never able to fit in and always much like a foreigner than an actual student.

Maybe that's why he decided to strike a conversation with her, nursing a glass of Veela champagne (a very good batch from 1823; the summer rains had really helped that one harvest), watching her as she watched the dance floor with her black eyes, brown hair pulled back in an intricately complicated braid. The dress she wore was some shade of tyrian and dark green accents, and she looked beautiful. With a deep breath, he approached her.

"Astoria, I presume?" Draco asked, false coolness on his tone; this was a necessary step of polite society. Astoria averted her eyes to him, icy contempt showing itself, and nodded curtly. "May I sit here?"

"You may." Astoria replied, voice soft and quiet, a facade of chill underneath her words. She cocked her head, a curious tilt that made one stray strand fall to the side, framing her face. "But don't you quite think this place is too crowded? I'd love some fresh air."

Abandoning his glass on the table, Draco smiled, rising up and offering her a short bow. Astoria rose an eyebrow at that.

"Then let me accompany you out." With a nod, she rose from her chair, elegant and delicate as she went to the balcony, Draco following half a step behind. She opened the doors with a gentle touch of her gloved hands, the chilly air of winter hitting them like a punch; thankfully, the heat-preserving wards were on place, allowing for the chill to set just enough, but for no snow to pile up.

Astoria closed the door as Draco approached the edge of the balcony, staring at her quietly. Then, she went for a dark corner, fishing something out of her dress pocket - a… Cigarette holder?

Draco looked, dumbfounded, as she grabbed a cigarette pack, putting it on her cigarette holder and lighting it up with a Muggle lighter. The flame illuminated her face, creating shadows were there weren't before, and she smirked at him.

"Thanks for letting me out of that stuffy place, Malfoy. Really thankful for that." She said, and nodded at him. "Want one? I bought a fantastic pack from Egypt, just came back from there last week so these are definitely laced. Great food, fantastic mummies to fight. You should go there, Malfoy."

"No, thank you." Had someone shattered a glass or was it the background noise of his life? He had thought she was a lady of high society, not some sort of rascal who went around adventuring and smoking!

She cocked her head once again.

"Really? A shame. Getting high makes these events bearable." She took a drag out of it, holding the smoke in for a moment before letting it go in circles of smoke. "Really glad my parents aren't here anymore to spell me out."

Draco furrowed his brow, abandoning his relative safety and approaching the shadows were she stood.

"Spell you out…?" Draco asked, curious, and Astoria offered him an eye roll.

"Yeah, I'm always getting into trouble, " She waved around her cigarette, free hand gesturing to herself, ", so they'd put me under complacency spells and make me stay in the table the entire night. Honestly, now that they're dead and big sister is the family head, it's so much better."

She muttered something, and Draco politely pretended not to hear the scathing commentary on how Daphne should also take the stick out of her ass. He had to agree, though; Daphne was always a stickler for rules.

"Maybe I'll take one of your cigarettes." Draco said, smiling, and Astoria offered him such a genuine smile that Draco thought that maybe ornaments should be more than pretty little things. He put the cigarette to his mouth, and she used her lighter to light it up, once more bathing her face in warm shadows. "It is laced with what, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Heroin." Astoria replied, with such genuine emotion Draco almost spat it out of his mouth, unwittingly inhaling the smoke. His face must've said something, because she cracked out in a peel of laughter. "It's a joke! It's just a joint, not laced with anything. Chill out, Draco."

She smoked hers again, and Draco had to bite back a laugh. Maybe he really should "chill out", whatever that meant - preferably with her. Astoria seemed like good fun, really, and yes, maybe he should relax a little.

"Sure." He said, and she kept her smile, eyes fixated on him. "Do tell more about your travels, though."

She shone, bright, impossibly bright on the dark, and started speaking.


End file.
